refrigerator light
by just like our last
Summary: Here we are again in the middle of the night, we're dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light.


**EDIT: **I have been accused of stealing this fic idea from FabianRutterFan, who posted a similar fic a couple days before I posted this one, with the same Taylor Swift lyric and everything. I promise you, I am not petty enough to go looking through the fanfic archive to steal ideas from people. The similarity between the two is a coincidence, nothing more. If I get more hate on the matter, I will take this fic down. But I am not a thief. I am simply a Taylor Swift and Jeroy fan who has been forced to re-evaluate her originality as a writer. I hope you can enjoy both fics as separate pieces; FabianRutterFan's fic is great too! Go check it out!

_"You should just feel lucky he was even stupid enough to date you."_

Fabian's voice cuts deep into the crevices of Joy's insecurities, her very being shaking with disbelief at his cruelty, and she can hear herself crying as his eyes turn red, his soul turns black, and suddenly she is covered in layers of thick, black dust, reaching out for something, anything to grab hold of, and there is Jerome's hand, but it is always just out of reach, even as she runs towards it…

Joy wakes with a start, covered in sweat, her face damp with tears. Sitting up and blinking through the darkness, she brings her sheet to her face and wipes away the sweat and tears. She shivers, pulling her blanket up to her chin before getting out of bed, and walks silently down the hallway and downstairs, all the way to Jerome's bedroom. She knocks on the door, creaking it open.

"…Jerome?" she whispers hesitantly, stepping inside.

Groggily, her boyfriend opens his eyes, raising his eyebrows and sitting up in bed when he spots Joy at the door. "Joy? What are you doing? It's…" he glances at the clock on his bedside table. "…nearly three in the morning."

"I know," Joy sighs, lowering her head and dropping her hand from the door handle, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I had a nightmare."

Almost instantly, Jerome is out of bed and standing next to her. "Oh, well, that changes things. Come on, let's get you a glass of milk, and you can tell me all about it." He puts an arm around her bare shoulder and leads her quietly out of the bedroom, towards the kitchen. While walking, he can't help but notice the shine of sweat and tears on her skin in the pale moonlight.

When they reach the kitchen, Jerome drops his arm and faces her, their eyes meeting. "What's your favorite color?" He questions.

Joy shrugs. "Purple."

"Alright, purple it is, then." Jerome turns towards the cupboard behind them and opens it. In the dim moonlight of the dark room, he searches for a purple mug, smiling with satisfaction and declaring, "Aha!" when he finally finds one, pulling it out of the cupboard with zest. Joy can't help but giggle. Jerome winks at her as he sets the cup down on the counter next to her, and opens the fridge, the bright artificial light causing them both to blink as he takes the milk from the fridge, fills the purple mug, and replaces the carton in the fridge. Picking up the now full mug, he kicks the refrigerator door closed, bowing before Joy and holding the mug out to her in one swift movement.

"Milady," he declares formerly as Joy takes the mug, stifling her laughter.

"Milord," she responds, bowing her head and offering her free hand out to him. He takes her hand, brings it to his lips as he rises, and kisses it softly. He then lowers their hands together and leads her towards the couch in the living room, their fingers now intertwined. As they sit down together on the couch, Joy brings his hand into her lap and takes a sip of the milk. "Thank you," she murmurs gratefully, meeting his eyes.

"You're welcome. Now, what about this nightmare of yours?" Jerome responds curiously.

Joy's smile falls instantly, and she lowers the mug, resting it on the coffee table next to the couch. "It was about what Fabian told me the other day, after you and I broke up. in the dream, he repeated what he had said, and then his eyes turned red and everything turned into black dust and smoke, and I could hear screaming and…" Joy pauses, shivering, and Jerome unlinks his fingers from hers and brings his arm up to rub her shoulder, squeezing her gently. "…and your hand was there, reaching out for me through the smoke, but no matter how I ran towards it, it kept getting further and further away…" She lets her head fall to rest on Jerome's chest, sighing tiredly as she presses her damp cheek against the cotton fabric of his white shirt.

"And what exactly did Fabian say?" Jerome's voice is laced with concern as he looks down at the girl huddled against his chest, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

"He said that I didn't deserve to be happy, that I was lucky you were stupid enough to date me in the first place…" Jerome can hear the tears in her voice as she speaks. "He _really_ said this to me, a few days ago; it wasn't just in my dream."

Jerome's eyes widen with disbelief. "Well, he can't have been right in the head, then. If there's anyone that deserves to be happy, it's you. And_ I'm_ the one that's lucky to be dating _you_. I can't imagine my life without you in it; those few days we broke up were literally some of the worst I've ever been through. I didn't know _how_ to be happy if I couldn't have you in my life as my girlfriend. I love you, Joy." He leans down and kisses her forehead, his heart warm with the realization that this is what love feels like, and it's different than anything he felt with Mara or Willow; it's new and perfect and he knows he would never do anything to hurt Joy as long as he lives.

"I love you, too," Joy replies gratefully, and Jerome can tell that she believes him. "…Is this what it feels like to be important?" she wonders timidly.

Jerome sighs. "I don't know," he admits. "I've never really been important before. But yes, I think so. It's nice, isn't it? Knowing someone truly cares about you?"

Joy lifts her head, looking into his eyes before slowly bringing her lips to his. "It's more than nice," she murmurs softly as they break apart. But it isn't more than a moment before their lips meet again, harder this time, tongues grazing each other and hands running through hair.

It is several minutes before they break for air, both laughing when their eyes meet. Joy pecks his lips once more before drawing back, picking up the mug of milk she had abandoned on the coffee table and taking another drink of milk.

"Thank you for reminding me why I'm alive, and for giving me a reason to be… joyful again," Joy sighs.

Jerome wraps his arms around her shoulders, smiling. "No, thank _you_." After another moment's pause, he looks into her eyes again. "Do you want to dance?" he asks.

Joy's brow furrows with amusement. "Dance?" she asks. "Now?"

"Well, why not? Come on," Jerome insists, getting to his feet and offering her his hand. Grinning, Joy chugs down the last of her milk and stands up. The two dance playfully over to the kitchen, hand in hand, and Joy sets the empty mug down in the sink, letting out a shriek of laughter when Jerome pulls her into a dip a second later, pecking her on the lips before bringing her back up to stand, and soon they are in full swing, dancing along to the silence of the kitchen without really knowing the steps, giggling and sweating and smiling and kissing and pulling each other close.

It doesn't feel like long until the dim light of morning begins to peek through the windows, and Joy and Jerome collapse onto the couch, laughing and breathing heavily.

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep another hour before we have to get ready for school?" Jerome ponders, raising an eyebrow tiredly.

Joy shrugs. "I guess we should try. Trudy will be up soon anyway, making breakfast, and she'll be surprised if she finds us out here," she points out between exhausted breaths.

"Alright, then. See you in an hour or so, my love." Jerome smiles as they both stand up, offering Joy a sweaty hug and kiss on the cheek before they part ways, both smiling all the way back to their rooms.

Joy doesn't have another nightmare for months.


End file.
